Ranma Gets Glasses
by ssfr
Summary: Ranma realizes sight isn't the same as seeing.


Disclaimer: The Ranma characters are not mine, nor is Megumi.  
They're just borrowed for my own amusement.  
The original characters are mine, if you can find them  
If you're looking for a plot, you probably won't find one.

Ranma Gets Glasses  
A pointless meander through a thought problem  
By  
Suika Roberts

"Saotome-kun, what is the top row? Just point the direction," the  
woman tells me.

I stare at the blurry mess for a moment, then point, up, down, left,  
right.

"Good," she says, "and the next?"

I concentrate, extracting meaning from the nearly featureless grey  
blur, left, down, up, down, right.

"Next?"

I pause, blinking at the almost white blur the the bottom line of the  
chart, down, left, right, up, down, left, right.

"Very good, that'll be all for now."

"Um," I pause, embarassed, "I didn't actually see any of that."

"What do you mean?" she asks, puzzled.

"Well, the chart is a whiter patch on the wall, with a few grey  
blurs."

"But you read it just fine."

"Didn't see it, though. Looking at it, it is just a  
mostly-featureless blur."

"Is everything blurry, or just near stuff, or only far stuff?"

"Everything goes blurry at about half a meter. After about three  
meters it is generally easier to watch stuff with my eyes closed."

"With your eyes closed?"

"Un."

"Show me?" she says, readying another chart.

I close my eyes, and read it off to her. It takes a fair bit of time,  
but not much more than it had with my eyes open.

"Wow," she practically gushes, "Could you sit here, chin on the pad,  
forehead up against the other pad?"

I do so.

"Just look at the light for a moment."

The little white circle blurs and clears, then blurs again, then  
rather randomly switches between the two extremes.

"That's done, just come over here a moment," she tells me, setting me  
in front of something that looks a lot like a submarine sighting-scope, and I  
am totally shocked by what I see -- the chart, but it isn't blurry like like  
everything further than half a meter away always is. I wonder for a moment if  
it is a picture of some sort, then she leans into view briefly, adjusting  
something.

"Is this better?"

I realize that the fuzzyness has changed a bit.

"I don't know, what was the first?"

"Here."

I blink at it, reading the little label saying who made it, "Back,  
please?"

"Sure."

The second is even clearer.

"Yeah, that's better."

"How about this?" she fiddles with it.

The fuzzyness is just gone.

I blink.

"Wow. That's clearer than anything I've ever seen."

"And this?"

It is a little blurrier.

"Worse."

We go through a few more permutations, but none are as good as the  
third.

"Can we order you a set of glasses today?"

"The school sent me here today, and is covering the exam. How much  
will they cost?"

"Frames start at nine thousand yen, and go up from from there. Lenses  
will be another six thousand in your case."

"A hundred and fifty thousand? For glasses." Somehow neither of us  
notice that I'd just totally mauled my addition there. Confusion twists my  
face, as I wonder how they're so common if they're that expensive.

"My script is really close to yours, but . . . ì

"Your face is narrower."

"And I wear rather girly glasses."

"That wouldn't matter for a five-minute loan."

"I was thinking of just giving you one of my old pairs."

"Old pairs?"

"Peoples eyes change over time, so one needs to get an exam every few  
years."

"Oh, wow. So I might have been able to just see things years ago?"

"Probably."

I think for a moment, then decide. "Excuse me, I need a bit of  
water."

She points the way, and I douse myself at the water fountain.

She blinks when I plonk myself back in the chair, and peer through the  
sight.

"Miss, I was helping a . . . "

"Young man, yep. It's a water actuated curse."

"Ranma?"

"Saotome, yes. Pleased meet you," I smile, and she smiles back,  
delight radiating off of her.

"Wow, I mean, wow," she reaches out and trails her fingers softly down  
my face.

I tremble at the sensation.

"Yeah, it was a bit of a surprise to me, too," I tell her,  
understating my my reaction under her obviously positive regard.

"I would think," she smiles a little wider for a moment, "Let me draw  
you a map to my house, and we can try a few pairs this evening after I get  
off work?" she asks, a happy look on her cute? yeah, cute? face.

"Sure, I'm looking forward to it," I let a pleased grin spread across  
my face.

"7:30? I'll feed you . . . ' she trails off suggestively.

I'm sure my eyes sparkle, "Sure, that would be nice.

-

Akane notices my happyness when I return from the eye doctor's. She  
just radiates suspicion, "So you're fine, right?"

"Nope. Myopic," I pronounce the word carefully, "Nearsighted.  
Everything goes blurry after about half a meter."

"Wouldn't you have known before?"

"I thought, oyaji told me, it was normal. Not that it mattered,  
really."

"It didn't matter? Why?"

"I could read the board in class, interact with friends, fight. What  
more did I need?"

"Really? Then why did you look at me for so long in the bath?"

"Wasn't sure whe it was, didn't know you that well yet?"

"Oh," she rallies, "Then why are you smiling?"

"The eye doc said her prescription is close to mine, and she'll give  
me one of her old pairs," I smile, and I can feel her smile back at me.

-

"Konbanwa," I greet her.

She bows back, a dark blue blur with paler face and black hair  
cascading down her shoulders.

Something pleasant colors her voice as she invites me in.

"Let's do the glasses first, shall we?"

"Sure," I let my eagerness flow into my voice, and feel her smile in  
responce.

She leads me into a dark toned room, with several glints of shinyness  
I don't look too close, though.

She sets me in a chair, in front of a slightly blurry mirror.

"Try these," and she slips something onto my face.

I stare at the studious girl looking back from the mirror. She winks  
when I do, my fingers brush the surface of the mirror.

"Wow," she drops her hand onto my shoulder, and I look, first in the  
mirror, then up at her, "Wow," I repeat.

She smiles, and I'm transfixed by the way her face changes.

"Those look good on you," she proffers another pair, "Try these."

This pair is smaller, less overt, and, when I get them on, provide a  
different look, softer somehow. She almost drapes across my shoulders, and I  
shudder under the sensation as she studies me in the mirror.

"These suit you too. Keep them both."

"Both? I couldn't--'

She cuts me off, "They're both for a younger woman than I. Keep  
them."

"Younger than you want to seem, not than you are," I tell her firmly.

She blushes, "Flatterer."

"No," I stammer a moment "Not at all, I'm not, I meant that," at that  
I stop, flustered.

"Thank you, then. Shall we eat?" her eyes sparkle in the mirror.

"Sure," I smile and she squeezes my shoulder.

I secure the studious pair, and turn, stopping when I notice the blue  
garment clearly. It is a slinky gown, of the sort I'd worn before, but I'd  
never appreciated how it actually looked on a person.

It clings softly to the curve of her hips and bust, tapering at her  
waist, and down her legs, low heeled satin shoes on her feet. Her hair frames  
her soft roundish face perfectly.

The clue-by-four smacks me upside the head, making me stagger and grab  
the desk to support myself.

She smiles, "I haven't gotten a reaction like that in a long while,"  
and ruffles my hair.

"This is rather like a date, isn't it?" I ask, unsure how I feel about  
it now that the initial shock has passed.

"Only if you want it to be. You look so much like my first girlfriend  
that I just couldn't resist dressing up," she smiles, a rather crooked smile,  
"Pathetic, isn't it?"

"No," I smile, "Not really," I pause for a moment, "No promises?"

"No promises?" she asks.

"This is just a date, and doesn't mean we're going to get married or  
anything."

She laughs, "No promises," and holds out her pinkie.

I link mine with hers, "No promises," and we shake.

After a few minutes she uncurls her finger with a little giggle.

My face gets warm. I look into the mirror, and see that I'm blushing.  
My fingers brush my face, fascinated.

She smiles in the mirror, and I turn back to her, "Then it's a date."

"Thank you," and she smiles at me. She crooks her arm, and looks at  
me expectantly.

"What do I do?"

"Tuck your hand up under my arm, and wrap your fingers over the top,"  
she gently curls them into the shape she wants. I look up at her, then let  
myself sag over into her, enjoying the feelings as she walks us into the  
dining area. I watch as she pulls out a chair, then let her seat me. Black  
tapers and black lace cloth.

She vanishes into the kitchen area, which is sectioned off with a  
curtain.

After a moment she reapears, a dish in her hands. She serves onto the  
elegant black glass dishes, slender silver on black napkins.

I trace the curve of a fork, then, "Itadakimasu."

The food is strange but good, and after I insist on doing the washing  
up, the silence stretching a little as I dry the black plates, and put them  
away.

"She was like that, too, always insistant on helping. She would have  
broken something, though."

"What happened?"

"Our parents found out, and split us up. She's probably happily  
married, two kids, the whole thing," she traces one plate edge.

"What was her name?"

"Nodoka. Hasegawa Nodoka."

Could it?

"Nodoka is my mother's name. Not a happy marriage there. When was  
it?"

"About twenty years ago. Miyuki ripped my heart out a few years  
later, then Shinobu, and I haven't made an effort since," her fingers tremble,  
then she clenches them tightly into a fist.

I grab her hand and kiss her knuckles, "That isn't good. I've four  
girls after me, yet I still know that isn't good."

She smiles, and cups my face in her hands. Bending down she kisses me  
gently on the lips.

My hand drifts to my lips, then. I drop it on hers, "If she is, would  
you like me to tell her, Matsudaira-sensei?"

"I don't know. I don't think I could stand it if I'm not -- if she  
doesn't remember as fondly as I remember her."

Oh. "I'll see if I can -- if she is."

"Alright, I'll trust your judgement, then."

I blink -- I hadn't expected that. Nobody seems to "trust my  
judgment," I'm not even sure I have any.

I dry the last of the silver, then she sees me to the door. I step  
down and get my shoes on, then turn back and raise my lips expectantly.

She laughs, "Usually it is the instigator who tries that," then she  
leans forward, cups my head in her hands, and kisses me.

It feels so nice that I sway when she breaks it off.

"Off with you now, scamp, but feel free to visit," she untangles  
her fingers from my hair and gives me a little push, caressing my cheek with  
her other hand.

"Thank you for the lovely evening," I step back, admiring her smile,  
then turn, open the door, and flee.

-

"Wow," I stop, in the hall, looking at Kasumi.

"What is it, Ranma-kun?" she smiles, and I fight panic.

"You're very pretty," I say after a moment.

"Why, thank you, Ranma-kun."

Nabiki starts laughing.

"Don't," Kasumi warns.

"It's OK, I'm sure it will be an amusing few days as I start to see  
things as more than a blurry presence. I found myself doing this," I turn my  
head slowly, tracking someone who isn't there, "at girls as they passed. I  
never understood why guys did that before. Must be some sort of wiring quirk,  
messing with our hormones somehow."

"What do you mean?"

I turn a cute face at Nabiki, my ki twisted all the way to "buriko."

"Glasses?" she stammars, shifting in place, her face a little flushed,  
her pupils big and startled.

I relax, "Yeah. Oyaji lied about the Art being the only way to  
overcome lost focus."

"Lost focus?" Kasumi asks.

"That's what Oyaji called it. Myopia, nearsightedness."

"But he wears glasses?" Nabiki points out.

"Yeah, I think he wanted me to be able to do the sorta cool stuff I  
can pull off -- I can read the board and fight people, despite the fact that  
everything goes way blurry at about my wrist. I can do that with my eyes  
closed, too," Ranma says, only bragging a little, "But I'd forgotten the kind  
of nuances being able to see someone's face can add to a conversation, and  
that the visual differences between girls and boys is more than just skirts,  
bust, and hips," Ranma traces an hourglass shape in the air in front of her.

Nabiki turns away, and Kasumi smiles, "It's nice, isn't it?"

"Girls are. Boys just aren't as interesting."

"That's normal, I think," Kasumi says, "I find girl watching much more  
fun than boy watching, anyway."

Nabiki makes a strange, strangled noise, and I say, "Hmm."

Kasumi continues, "You might want to wipe the lipstick off and  
straighten up a little before Akane sees you, Ranma-kun."

I feel my face heat as I wipe ineffectively at the lipstick smeared on  
my lips.

Nabiki homes in on me, "So why do you have lipstick on, Ranma-chan?"

"Matsudaira-sensei-- ' all of the "she's are either the genderless  
"sensei' or just not there in Japanese --S

She cuts me off, "Who?"

"Eye doctor. These were her glasses. She invited me to her house to  
give them to me."

"And this explains you having lipstick on how?"

"She was wearing it."

"You let a dirty old man in lipstick kiss you?"

"Do these look like dirty old man glasses to you?" I raise an eyebrow,  
"Cute young woman, about mom's age."

"That's not good," Kasumi grabs my face, and wipes at my lips with a  
damp cloth, "What would Akane say, Ranma-kun?"

"It wasn't some sort of "kiss me and you must marry me" kiss, nor my  
first, Sanzenen stole that. It was a "just friends" sort of kiss."

"Do you think that would matter to her right now?"

I frown, "No, I guess not."

-

I'm standing in front of the biggest mirror in the house, naked except  
for my new glasses, on the counter because it would cut me off just under the  
bust otherwise.

I made sure that the "Occupied" sign is out, dropped the little hook  
through the little eye, and so am totally relaxed when I hear a voice from  
under the counter.

"Would you have ever told me?" Akane asks.

I fall backward off the counter, and barely got my feet back  
underneath me before I hit the floor with an inelegant thump.

I think on it a moment, "Probably not."

"Why?"

"It is my business, and you commonly hurt me over stuff like that."

"It's OK," she notices that she is staring at at my nude body,  
blushes, turns a little bit away, but not so far, I note, as to prevent seeing  
me, "She didn't do anything to you, did she?"

"Gave me two pairs of glasses, fed me strange food, talked about her  
bad luck with girls, and kissed me goodnight."

"She didn't touch you, places you didn't want to be touched, did she?"

I finally get what she is inquiring about, and step up, turning her  
and pulling her tightly into a hug, "No, she didn't molest me. She just saw  
that she could help, so she did."

"She didn't have to kiss you for that," her voice is muffled against  
my shoulder.

"She said I reminded her of her first girlfriend, then got all  
maudlin, then kissed me. It was nice."

"Just nice?"

"Just nice," knee weakening nice.

"Kiss me," Akane orders.

"Like this?"

"Like this," and she pulls back a little.

"OK," I cup her head and tilt it back off my shoulder, then go up on  
my toes, distracting myself with the sensation of her clothes and bust against  
my bare skin, then press my lips to hers.

After a few moments I feel her lips open, and something soft brush  
mine firmly, press between, stroke my teeth. I brush her tongue with my own,  
and we both go weak in the knees, Akane sagging firmly onto me.

I let myself sag to my knees, bringing her with me.

After a little more, she breaks the kiss, her nostrils flaring as she  
sucks in the warm musky scent in the air, her face flushed, pupils wide.

"Thank you," she gasps, then flees, barely pausing to unhook the door  
before she opens it.

Add a bit of contemplation? --S, editing note in paper draft

I hook it again, then get back on the counter, sitting this time, my  
feet appart, knees bent to the surface, vulva spread, the delicate inner  
petals bright pink, I close my eyes and feel for my clitoris, then open them,  
carefully pull back its little foreskin so I can look at it.

It looks something like the textbook showed it, small, rounded,  
somewhat erect under my regard, a coral pink, unlike the head of my penis,  
which is more purple. I brush it, dry finger scraping rather roughly over the  
tender skin. I gather a fingertip of lubricant, draw it back up over the  
slight dent of my urethra, then it starts scraping, so I run it back down and  
lube it again. The lube glistens in the light, slightly deepening the colors  
of my vulva, highlighting the little ridges, the plump curve of my outer  
petals.

My finger shifts my petals, spreading them a little as it passes, then  
quashes my clitoris a little, pushing the foreskin up and back. It pops back  
down as my finger continues up, perhaps bouncing.

I rub back down, and, yes, it does bounce as I rub back up over it.

My nipples catch my attention, the pale brown familiar, the pebbly  
texture, visually, not. To the touch, they are hard, with soft skin over  
them. Now that they aren't blurry I notice the nubby texture and cute little  
divot in the middle of each, which deepens under my appreciative gaze.

I just watch for a few minutes then the familiar fantasy comes out,  
chock full of new details, the touch of her lips against mine, the warm  
feeling of her arms wrapped around me, and it's her fingers brushing my  
clitoris, her hand caressing my breast, rubbing over the cute little divot in  
my cute little nipple.

"Kiss me," she says, and I twist my head back, gasping against her  
face as she pinches my clitoris, pulls it a little.

Her lips just brush mine, then she tells me, "Come."

And I do, hard, my face, neck, and chest all flushed, all my skin  
glistening with sweat, even my hair damp.

I'm surprised by how damp I am, sweat is actually dripping off my  
nose. I smear the little river of it between my breasts, then roll backwards  
off the counter to my feet.

I wrote this 2002/Feb/4. I've not written any smut since ; --S,  
2002/Sep/18

-

Washed and dried, I head back upstairs. Akane's presence is warm and  
asleep in her room, and I'm horribly tempted to peek and see what she looks  
like as she sleeps. I dither outside her door long enough to wake her up, so  
I knock.

"Who is it?"

"Ranma."

"You're outside my door because . . . '

"Trying to decide if it would be OK to peek in and see what you look  
like asleep."

"Oh," she is silent for a while, "It's OK. No pulling back the covers  
unless I'm awake, though," I can feel her smile, "Come in a moment."

I open the door, and she beckons me over. I sit where she indicates,  
next to her on the bed, and she takes my hand, twining her fingers through  
mine.

"I hit you for a look at me you didn't actually get, so, if you want,  
you could take it now," she is blushing, and her voice gets really small at  
the end.

"I," I blush, too, my face warm, "if you don't mind, I'd like that."

She smiles, and I can feel myself calm a bit, "I looked at you today."

"That doesn't mean you want to."

"I want to," she says firmly, then pulls her nightgown off, sitting  
there bare-chested, the waistband of her panties showing at the edge of the  
blanket. She cups one breast in her hand, "They're a little small," she  
pauses, "but," then just grabs my hand and pulls it up to cup it.

Her breast is warm, soft, the nipple firm, warmer. I brush it, and  
watch goosebumps slip over her skin as she shivers. I stroke them with  
calussed fingertips, the flesh pliant and firm, as soft as my own, but nicer,  
somehow, to touch. The lovely low gasps and the intense, concentrating feel  
of her are soo nice.

Her fingers slip under my shirt, wrap around my waist, and she kisses  
me, her fingers brushing up over my breasts, her hands cupping them.

A few lovely moments later she breaks off, pulling her hands back.

"Slowly," she says, and I don't know which of us she is talking to.

She kisses me again, "Enough for now?" her fingers trail over my face.

I moan, desperately wanting her to continue, "Enough, if you want it  
to be."

"I don't," and she hugs me to her, leaning back and pulling me up on  
top of her, "But this is so fast. I don't want any regrets."

"Regrets are bad," I agree, nuzzling against her neck, my glasses a  
little in the way.

-

I wake alone in the morning, momentarily confused, then remembering  
that Pop is off hiding from Mom, who threatened to skin him over the curse. I  
think she's forgiven him, at least enough that he needn't fear for his life.  
But he's off hiding, she's away so that I can "apply the lessons of that book  
I gave you," reffering to the human sexuality text she'd passed to me, back  
before she'd figured out that "Saotome Ranma', girl, was her son.

A slightly warped smile forms on my face about that.

Akane got back into her gown, kissed me again, my fingers brush my  
lips at the memory, then sent me back to my room.

I roll to my feet, find the studious pair of glasses, and head down,  
half dressed.

-

So that's why he just about dissappears. Sorta flattering, perhaps,  
but it makes me really uncomfortable now that I know what's going on.

I push the thought of Soun out of my mind, and throw dirt over the  
hole it went into.

Breakfast is lovely, and the carefull layout of everything, from the  
serving utensils to the food, is wonderfully obvious.

After a few bowls of rice Akane sidles up to me, grabs my hand, and  
kisses it.

Nabiki whistles. Kasumi blushes. Soun is still lost in ga-ga land.

-

Utchan is pretty. Hadn't realized that. She's tall, slim, and the  
boy's uniform she's wearing hides her waist pretty well, so from a distance,  
say a meter without my glasses, how oddly normal that feels to think already,  
she looks just like a guy. My glasses change that, and I find myself watching  
her, like other girls, avidly. Akane's noticed, and is sitting close, a  
possesive presence.

"What's with the glasses, Ran-chan?"

"Nearsighted. The glasses may help my social skills. Make things  
more interesting, anyway."

"How?"

"One dangerous blur is much the same as another. On the other hand, a  
pretty girl who's dangerous is much nicer to look at with glasses on," I smile  
first at Utchan, then Akane.

Both take offence.

-

Shanpuu is, in some ways, even cuter than I am. No wonder Akane and  
Utchan get upset. I smile at her, and offer to share when Akane starts to  
look upset at the food she brought.

Akane flusters, and Shanpuu looks pleased.

"Why glasses, Ranma?"

"Myopia. Nearsightedness. Things get really blurry at about half a  
meter without them. Which, I've found, really interferes with some things."

"Like realize wife is really cute?"

She smiles, and Akane scowls, but it doesn't leak into danger yet.

I grab Akane's hand, stroke it with that thumb, "Yeah," I answer  
Shanpuu.

She blinks, "You like pervert-girl?"

"Yeah."

Akane kisses my knuckles.

"Pervert-girl like you too," her smile drops, and she turns to leave.

I look at Akane.

She frowns, then quickly says, "Stay."

Shanpuu turns back, "Why?"

"I don't know. Stay."

She stays.

-

Utchan and Shanpuu are making eyes at each other, and not in good  
ways. Akane seems amused by it, or perhaps it is just the way I'm leaning up  
against her.

Utchan notices, and scowls.

I wave her over, and, pleased, she leans up against my shoulder,  
cuddling close.

Shanpuu's annoyance is now palpable, and I sit stock-still a moment,  
impressed by the ammount of warning my glasses provide, then pat my knee.

She is curled up in my lap almost instantly. Utchan's face is blank,  
but Akane is smiling slightly. She runs her hand slowly down Shanpuu's flank,  
from the back of her shoulder to the curve of her thigh.

Shanpuu makes a soft, pleased noise. Akane strokes her again.

"Pervert-girl's hand feels nice."

Akane smiles, and keeps petting her with long, slow strokes down the  
curve of her back. Utchan watches a while, then begins to rub Shanpuu's  
belly. Shanpuu actually makes a credible purr at this, a cute smile  
transforming her face.

Unable to resist, I trace it with my fingertips, and she lips at them.  
I gasp, then realize just how aroused and lubricated the situation has gotten  
me. I squirm a moment, then just lay over onto Shanpuu, bringing Akane and  
Utchan with me, a little off sync, and relax by force of will. Shanpuu  
wiggles, then relaxes as well. Akane drapes a possesive arm over my back,  
then goes soft and boneless.

I spare a few moments of worry for my glasses, then fall asleep as  
well.

-

A quick touch confirms that my glasses aren't on my face. I look for  
them -- over closer to the door, on a piece of paper which reads "you were all  
asleep, so I put your glasses over here where they would be safer, Ranma-kun.  
Kasumi." Small, faint, probably erased characters read, "so cute. I wish".

I wiggle a little, rested, warm, surrounded by soft girl, in my lap,  
against my butt, over my back.

Shanpuu wakes first, "Good morning," her voice is a little muffled,  
but happy.

Akane groans, "Ow, my back."

Utchan sits up, "Goodness," and stretches, her back emitting a loud  
set of pops and creaks.

Akane sits up, twists sharply to one side and the other, then gets to  
her feet and walks out.

Shanpuu smiles happily, a fuzzy curve of lips on a fuzzy oval face.

She rolls over, stretching slowly, sensuously.

"I don't have my glasses on, so I'm missing most of the effect, you  
realize."

"Pervert-girl and other pervert-girl not misssing show, though, are  
they?"

Akane's at the door, watching, after all.

Shanpuu rolls the rest of the way to the floor, and I walk over to my  
glasses, get them on, then run though my morning stretches, three sets of  
appreciative eyes on every move.

"Pervert-girl should find new handles for pervert-girl," Akane touches  
her nose, "and other pervert-girl," pokes at Utchan, "perhaps?"

"Perhaps," Shanpuu smiles, "Angry-girl."

"Oh?" Utchan arches, "and me?"

""Butch," perhaps?"

"Arr," Utchan mock-growls, and Akane laughs.

Utchans makes a hurt face, but the corners of her mouth keep popping  
up, and she is radiating happy amusement.

I slip out the door, wash quickly, and change for the new day of  
school, knowing just how I smell, and not wanting everyone in my class to as  
well.

-

I ponder the erased "I wish" on Kasumi's note, and wonder what she was  
going to write.

Some warm liquid splashes onto my head.

"Who left their skateboard in the walk this morning?" yells some irate  
man, as his coffee dribbles down my masculine face. I pull my glasses off,  
check the temples, then tuck them in my pocket, surprised at how bland the  
world looks without them.

Akane reaches for my hand.

"I'm not that blind," I say, somewhat harshly.

"I was holding your hand before you got splashed," she reminds me, her  
voice upset.

"Oh, sorry," I say, holding out my hand.

She glares at it, then twines her fingers in mine.

-

Utchan is waiting for us at the gate, having gone home to change  
for school.

I can feel her smile, but not see it. Her arm crooks as we aproach,  
then drops when she realizes I'm male. I tuck my fingers under it anyway, and  
she is confused but happy about it.

I ponder the confusion, and decide to look up a book on dating  
behaviour to see if that would shed some light on matters.

-

A splash of water and I'm putting my glasses back on, adjusting my  
clothes without thinking about it. Satisfied, no, pleased, by my appearance I  
step out, bouncing to class. At the door I wait for Moriyama-san, a slightly  
plump girl that all the other boys, and some of the girls, whisper about. The  
girls aren't complementary, and the boys' talk makes me uncomfortable.

She, well, jiggles when she moves, her breasts, despite the very  
structural bra she wears, her hips, the faintest shimmy to her belly. Once  
she is past, the sway of her hips distracts me for a long moment, then I  
remember to slide the door shut and take a seat.

I brood for a moment over what might control my own bounce without  
being too awfull when I'm a guy with bigger ribs.

Mom's attempt, a couple weeks ago, when I didn't see the point,  
springs to mind, "If you don't want them to be noticed, you could try wearing  
a men's spandex undershirt, the sort used to slim down a beer-belly, and pull  
them down and to the side to minimize their visual impact. I think you'd look  
best in a bra, but it is your body."

Now I see the point, and don't want to draw too much attention to  
them, most of the time, anyway.

I smile at my own fickleness.

-

A hundred and fifty thousand.

Fifteen hours at the Nekohanten.

Thirty at Utchan's.

The local pervert-photo club has offered me that much for a roll of  
clothed shots. I threatened to beat them all bloody if word got to Nabiki  
that they had said that, or I found any photos of me outside her range. They  
cowered like roaches fleeing the electric.

Seven hours breaking things as an independant, under-the-table  
contractor for the local government.

Twenty seconds, if they need a building demolished this week.

Which is why I'm on my way to the prefectural offices, to talk with  
Miyamura-san.

-

Eight story building. Three hundred thousand a floor. I walk through  
it quickly, making sure it is empty, nothing of great sentimental value has  
been left behind, looking for weak spots, escape routes, that sort of thing.

I kick one pillar in the second sub-basement firmly, then charge up  
the six flights of stairs as the building collapses.

I walk out of the cloud of dust, a light breeze ruffling my hair, the  
late afternoon sun glinting from the frames of my glasses. I look good, and I  
know it, the dust just adding an air of unruffled confidence.

-

Shopping, I find, is a little more fun when one can see.

Not much, but a little.

I leave with a few spandex shirts, new boxers, a black silk rope.

My old belt was getting a bit frayed.

I have maybe a half hour before she closes shop.

My purchases in my school bag, I take to the rooftops.

-

"Hey," I say, dropping to the street as she starts to close for the  
day.

"Hello," she smiles, "Anything I can do?"

"Could we order a set, or two, of glasses for my male form?"

"Sure. We can set up an installment plan pretty easily."

"Got cash."

She looks, distressed, "What did you . . . ' and she trails off.

"Demo'd a building -- that ugly city office near St. Hebereke."

"Demo'd?"

"Demolished. Brought down, so the crews only need to haul away the  
rubble. They like me because I work cheap, I like them because they pay much  
better than waitressing."

"Nodoka did waitress work part time during school. She rarely dropped  
things at work," she waves me in. She bustles about behind the counter a  
moment, "Could you change?"

"Sure," I ponder what she could have been distressed about as the tap  
water warms. Glasses in my pocket I splash my face, then wander back out.

Most people can't go from broke to three hundred thousand in two days.  
They can take a loan, but even the worst shark wouldn't cause that look. They  
could sell something -- it clicks, and I make a face. That would be  
distressing.

She notices my look, "What is it?"

"Just figured out the worried look you were wearing earlier. No  
sex-work for me, thanks," my lip half-curls into a smile.

"That's good," she says, "how do you think these would do?" she asks,  
holding up a scant dark blur across the room.

I take them when I get there, pull them close to see. Studious, I  
think, then put them on when she hands me a mirror.

Staid, Clark Kent glasses. I make a face, "Perhaps," I say, pulling  
back from the mirror.

Another pair, a little more gracile to hold.

On, they look nicely studious without being completely staid.

"Good."

She hands me another pair, shiny dark metal, great curved lenses. I  
try them on, the effect is interesting, and they don't leave as much of my  
peripheral vison uncorrected.

"Cool, do you have a set that would fit my girl-face?"

She smiles, "Yes, I do. Would you like a cute-boy pair, too?"

I make a face, "Lemme see 'em."

She pulls out several, round lenses, little ovals, square,  
rectangular.

I pick up a pair with rectangular lenses that match the "cute-girl"  
pair she gave me. They look nice on my face, so I add them to the pile on the  
counter.

"Back in a moment," and I go splash cold water on my face.

"A set of aviators for your cute girlish face," she holds them out.

"Aviators. Is that a brand?" I slip them on.

"It's the name of that style of frame."

The mirror shows that they don't swallow my face, and a quick glance  
around shows that they adequitely cover my perepheral vision.

"Cool, four pairs, so that's six hundred thousand yen, right?"

"Nope, fifty-one thousand five hundred yen, for your script and these  
frames."

"Posh," I pull out the wad that had made eyes pop at the clothing  
store, and drop a ten thousand and a fifty-thousand note on the counter, "then  
you get a tip for changing my life," and I smile at her.

She smiles back, "Strange child."

"Proud of it."

She ruffles my hair, "Out of here. I'll do the paperwork, and they  
should be ready the day after tomorrow."

"Thank you," I smile, she bows a little, so I bow until my pigtail  
brushes on the ground.

She laughs out loud, and I skip out, smiling.

-

"Hey," Utchan greets me.

"Hey. Ordered glasses. More glasses, actually. Want to go to the  
movies Sunday? We're mobbing up at eleven in the park near St. Hebereke."

"Sure, you feeling flush or something?"

"Brought down an office building, so, yeah. Gotta run, ttyl."

"Ja ne," she waves.

-

I skip through the doors of the bank at 4:29:37. The security guy  
mock scowls, then smiles at me.

Sauntering up the counter I pull the wad from my pocket.

"Saotome-san," the cute girl behind the counter chirps, and I smile  
back at her.

"Hey, Chiemi-san. A hundred thousand of this into my savings, and the  
rest into my investment account," I say, pulling off a few fifty-thousand  
notes and stuffing them in my pocket.

I hand over two fifty-thousand notes, and re-count the rest into piles  
of a hundred thousand each.

She recounts each of the twenty piles, then hands me a reciept.

"The glasses are new," she says.

"Yep. Apparently I'm nearsighted. What's my balance on the  
investment account?"

"After the recent market flux, and new deposit," she checks the  
computer, "Eighty million yen."

"Eighty million? Posh. One can almost buy a house with that."

"What did you do this time?"

"That ugly city building near St. Hebereke. Two point four million  
yen for a single kick."

"And knowing where to put it."

"That too," I smile, bow just a little bit. She bows a bit deeper,  
and the security guy lets me out into the gathering dusk.

-

I bounce over to the Nekohanten, quite pleased by the admittedly  
partial success of my new spandex shirt.

"Hey."

"Airen," she grabs me in a hug.

I let myself hug her back.

She smiles at that.

"Want to go to a movie Sunday?"

"Of course."

"We're mobbing up in the park near St. Hebereke at eleven."

"I'll be there."

"Invite the old woman, too."

"She'll probably not be interested."

"Invite her anyway, it's polite."

"Yes. Who else is coming? This time?"

"Utchan, you, me, Akane, probably, Kodachi, probably, Mom, probably,  
and the pay-their-own-way mob."

"Sounds fun. What theater is dumb enough to let us in?

"There is a new googleplex over in Shinjuku. I dropped a few names,  
and recieved no protest -- we might get to go back a couple times," I smile,  
remembering the adventures that had started from the theaters that won't let  
us back in.

She kisses me. This kiss is hard, fierce, her tongue forcing its way  
into my mouth, prying my teeth appart. Her tongue plunders my mouth, then  
gentles a little, brushing mine, her hands cupping my squashed breasts, my  
nipples so hard.

She breaks the kiss, "Talk to you later, Airen, back to work for me."

I moan in frustration.

"Saotome! Die!' and one of the potted palms dies a pittiful death.

"Over here, boya," I call, then charge him, keeping my ki masked as  
low as I can.

It works this time, too, and I clock him before he notices me.

"Bai bai," I call, then step out the door.

-

"Hey. Movie Sunday."

"Sure."

"Mobbing up in the park near St. Hebereke. Eleven."

"I'll be there. Kiss yourself for me," Kodachi mock-commands.

"Yes, dear," I plant a wet, slobbery kiss on the back of my hand.

"Thank you," her voice twinkles with laughter. She's been much more  
fun since she figured out the curse, during that fight with the small giant  
monster a few months ago.

We kicked its butt, but then it became huge, broke that water main,  
and I changed in her arms.

Ultraman took out the monster, and Kodachi did the play-with-curse  
routine.

Then she avoided all of us for a week or two.

When she showed up again she was different, much more playful,  
calmer, more centered somehow. 

-

"Movie, Sunday, coming?"

"Yes."

"Eleven. Park near St. H."

"Got it," she drapes herself over my shoulders as I dial.

"Mom?"

"Ranma-chan! To what do I owe this call?"

"We're going to a movie Sunday, and I thought I'd see if you'd like to  
come along?"

"Of course. Where are we meeting?"

"The park near St. Hebereke, at eleven."

"And the movie will be at?"

"New multiplex in Shinjuku. You might want to wear fighting clothes."

"We have trouble when ever I don't, so I shall."

"On a differnet subject, I ran into someone who might have gone to  
high school with you."

"Really? I changed schools twice during high school."

"Was your family name Hasegawa?" silence, "They thought my girl self  
looked just like the Hasegawa Nodoka they knew in high school."

"Rion?" Nodoka breathes into the phone, "I only ever told Rion that I  
was adopted. That was the name I was given when I was born, Ranma-chan. How  
is she?" her voice is a little choked, "Is she happy? Married? Kids?"

"She seems happy enough. She's an eye doctor. No girlfriends in  
years, no kids, never married."

"Oh," she almost sobs, "Where does she work?"

"In Nerima. I could take you to her appartment, if you'd like."

"Please," she is sobbing now, "It's been so long."

"I'll be there in a moment, OK? Wear something you could be carried  
in."

"Yes," she chokes out, then the line goes dead after a faint click.

"What was that?" Akane asks, trailing her fingers through the tears on  
my cheek.

"Sensei is mom's high school sweetheart, it seems."

"Your mom and your eye doctor. High school sweethearts. Only in  
Nerima."

"Only to us. Me, to be specific."

"Egotist."

"Much."

She hugs me. I return the hug, thumping her back.

-

Mom is in black slacks, a black turtleneck sweater, and a black  
blazer. Black loafers over black socks, a black ribbon holding back her hair.

I stop, stare a moment, then step up, "Hey, you ready to go?"

"Yes," she smiles, a little tremulously, and nods firmly.

Her weight is barely noticable on the streets, but throws my balance  
off a little when I take to the roofs, until I adjust.

Fourteen minutes later I drop down in front of Matsudaira-sensei's  
building.

"Up four flights," I tell her, and start up the stairs, two jumps per  
flight because my shape is wrong and the space is too confined.

Mom climbs off my back and straightens her clothes a little, then I  
knock on the door.

Matsudaira-sensei opens the door in a set of ugly brown sweats that  
might once have been black, her hair mussed, feet bare, eyeglasses a little  
crooked.

"Rion!' Mom shouts, startling us badly.

She then charges forward, grabs her in a tight grip and knocks both of  
them to the ground with a firm crack as sensei's head hits the floor.

Mom is sobbing and crying and babbling happily. Sensei is sobbing,  
crying, babbling happily, and rubbing the back of her head.

When they start sharing sloppy, tear-streaked kisses I clear my  
throat, "Would you like me to close the door and leave the two of you alone?  
You should move a bit if you do."

Mom rolls off Sensei, and climbs to her feet, helping Sensei up.

"Come in for a moment," Sensei tells me, "have some tea, and listen to  
a pair of old ladies talk about the past for a little bit."

"Neither of you are old," I disagree, but step in and close the door  
anyway.

-

"They made eyes at each other, the good sort of eyes, all the time I  
was there. Rion, for after "about a dozen repititions of "sensei"" that was  
what she insisted I call her, had to hide in her room for "a little while",  
which turned out to be most of an hour, while she "made herself presentable".  
Then I thought Mom was gonna pass out when she finally emerged, in a nice  
green dress, emeralds, and heels. Rion is fairly tall to begin with, and the  
heels were at least six centimeters.

"They held hands, talked about school, Mom apparently managed to get  
kicked out of a second school for being "disruptive of the educational  
process", and, she's pretty sure, a messy break up with one of the other  
girls. Rion's history was the same as last time, but with more detail about  
her schooling. Most of her stuff seems to have been chosen to appeal to Mom,  
'cause she sure gushed over all of it.

"I excused myself when they went back to playing footsie under the  
table for the fifth time."

"Wow, isn't that rare?" Utchan asks.

"What?"

"Both parents and children being the same orientation?"

"Yeah, but I'm a boy, just not at the moment."

"And Japanese women tended to have arranged marriages, where the  
husband really didn't care what their wives did with other women on their own  
time, so the genes might be a little more prevalent," Akane espouses.

"Perhaps," I hedge, not sure I agree with that logic.

"What I find odd is that the number of girls after Ranma far exceeds  
the number of boys," Kodachi is between Akane and Shanpuu, opposite me and  
Utchan.

The five of us are sitting in a circle on the floor of my room,  
talking, mostly about Mom and Rion.

"Most of the guys give up after they find out I was born a boy. The  
girls are more persistant."

"The guys tend to be obscure princes of strange countries, or other  
aristocrats out looking for an easy wife. Bozos, most of them, and lacking in  
determination. Which is probably a good thing," Utchan smiles, "Makes it  
easier to stage a rescue or escape."

"Hear, hear," Kodachi.

She got kidnapped the latest time, some South American kingdom.

The ride sucked, hitching on the landing gear of a seven four seven,  
all eight of the rescue party crammed into the left main compartment, short of  
breath, and cold.

Breaking into the guy's fortress, disabling his security systems and  
disarming his guards was easy. Shanpuu had already found where Kodachi was  
being kept, as well as calling us with directions, so that part was easy, too.  
Turns out the guy was some sort of drug dealer, so the local police and  
American troops went storming in shortly after we crept out.

It's really convienient to have some who speaks English and knows how  
to use money.

I don't, which is why we hitched our way out when JAL told us there  
was not space on that flight.

"Girls give up easily, too, some of them," I say, touching Kodachi's  
hand.

"Not the ones worth keeping," Akane says, rather softly.

Everyone looks at her. I blink.

"I did say that aloud, didn't I?" her expression is a bit quizzical.

"Yes, you did, Akane," Utchan says. Everyone notes the lack of  
honorific, but no one says anything.

"Where does this leave your father?" Kodachi asks, shifting the  
subject.

"I don't know. Pretty close to where he was before, but perhaps  
without a wife to be scared of, in a little while."

"Does he love her?" Utchan asks.

"He's never said it in my presence, nor does he seem to. They seem to  
have nothing shared but a sense of obligation. I could be wrong, but then  
Tatewaki could figure out the curse," someone muffles a laugh, "Or even just  
that I prefer girls."

Kodachi draws my hand to her lips, and kisses my knuckles.

I smile at her, and carress her cheek. A massively happy look spreads  
across her face.

Akane's hande joins mine on Kodachi's face.

Her mouth drops open, then she turns her head and takes Akane's  
finger between her lips, and sucks gently on it.

Utchan's hand drops to Kodachi's hip, tracing little circles, and  
Kodachi trembles.

Shanpuu's hand traces up Kodachi's thigh, under her skirts. Kodachi  
gasps, releasing Akane's finger, moaning as Shanpuu draws back down her leg.

"Really?" she manages after a few moments.

"Really," Akane's answer is soft.

"Really," Utchan answers.

"Truely," Shanpuu traces little circles just above Kodachi's knee.

"Promise," Kodachi gasps, her voice ragged, maybe despirate, her face  
longing.

"Promise what?"

"That you love me, that you won't leave me, that you will keep loving  
me," her voice is soft, barely a whisper.

A song drops into my head, ""I don't forget my promises/ I don't break  
my vows/ So now I'm praying for the end of time/ to hurry up and arrive/ yeah,  
I'm praying for the end of time/ so I can end my time with you."'

"Too true," Kodachi says firmly, breaking the mood, "Just for a while.  
If it works, new promises can be made, if it doesn't, we can end it," she  
looks a little scared.

"Love, togetherness, and clean breaks, if they come," and I hold out  
my pinkie, a little crooked.

Four others link through it.

"Promise." And we shake on it.

"What was that song? What did it say?" Akane, who's English is the  
worst of all of ours, asks. 

"Something about "end of time"," Shanpuu says.

"It's a song called "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights"," Kodachi  
starts.

-

I wake, fully clothed, again. My glasses are over by the door, but  
there isn't a note.

Instead there's and extra body in the pile, and a blanket over the lot  
of us.

The face tucked against my back is Kasumi's. The body under my face is  
Kodachi's. The head tucked against my belly is Shanpuu's. Utchan's hand is  
on my neck, and Akane's legs are tangled with mine.

I feel a smile cross my face, the promise of the night before fresh in  
my mind, warm happy girls all around me.

Kasumi wakes, "Ara," she says softly.

"Morning."

"Didn't mean to fall asleep here."

"It's OK. Felt nice," I tell her softly.

"What will Akane think?"

"I don't know," Akane says, "Feels weird."

"Are you upset? I could leave."

"Stay, if you like. I don't mind," she says.

I blink. I knew she had been changing, but it still surprises me when  
she keeps her temper when someone hits on me. Even Kasumi has been the target  
of her temper in the past. (FIXME -- this paragraph broke)

"No, I should make breakfast. We have guests, after all."

"I'll help," I say, and we wiggle out.

"Shh, go back to sleep, breakfast in a little while," I tell the  
others, lightly stroking faces, necks, and hands.

"OK," Akane says, and cuddles closer to Shanpuu.

-

"What was the "I wish" about on yesterday's note?" I ask, rinsing the  
rice.

"Self pity, nothing important."

"You aren't very good at lying, you do know that, don't you?"

"Yes, but it seems easier, sometimes."

"What was it?"

"I just wish I'd realized earlier. I think, now, that a friend of  
mine did everything but tell me. Twice she kissed me on the lips, and it was  
so nice. At the time I thought kissing a boy would be better, but."

"Yeah, that would be harsh. Have you kept in touch?"

"For a while, but then things went crazy here, and I didn't write for  
a couple months, and then I just couldn't get over that . . . ' she goes  
silent.

"Feeling of being horrible for not fulfilling one's obligations?"

"Yes."

"Write her. Tell her life was horrible and you couldn't write for a  
while."

"I should," she says, and rinses a knife.

"Do it. Today. Where does she live?"

"She's at Nekomi Kyoudai. Second year."

"Give her your number and invite her to visit. Don't worry if she  
doesn't respond for a week or two, either."

"And how do you know all this?"

"Martial Arts Speed Reading, and six books on courting, from 1902  
through 1985."

"Oh? And when did those get read?"

"Yesterday. During lunch break."

"That would have been a nice skill to have, when I was doing my  
college entrance tests."

"How'd you do?"

"Horrible in English, well enough in the rest."

"Why didn't you go?"

She shakes her head, "Who else could have coped with this, even before  
you arrived?"

"Maybe you should go now, meet people who aren't after me?"

"Maybe. Promise not to let the house fall down if I do?"

"I'll even make sure your father eats."

She laughs, "If I can, then."

-

Promises and bindings. It was so easy to tie myself to a single spot.  
Just a few thoughtless words to a friend.

I shrug. I can stress over it later.

Kodachi watches avidly as I bring the breakfast rice out.

-

People are staring. They'd only stopped moving, quickly but quietly,  
out of range whenever more than two of us were within speaking distance a few  
weeks earlier. The three of us walking in arm-in-arm, me on one side, Utchan  
in the middle, and Akane on her other arm, seems to have fried a few of them.

"What!? Has the foul sorceror bespelled his victims (my loves?) to  
quell their squabbles over him?" (FIX?)

"Good morning, Tatewaki-senpai," I greet him, then try a new argument,  
"Have you ever seen me and the other Saotome Ranma together at the same time,  
in the same place?"

He thinks, hard. I can almost see smoke come out his ears.

We continue to class.

One of the teachers notices the way we are walking together, visibly  
contemplates chastising us for the blatant flaunting of the public displays of  
affection rules, then shakes her head and walks on.

-

Class is dull, other than the mostly involuntary girl-watching.

Mikimoto-san is really nicely shaped, slender waist, softly curved  
thighs, nice bosom, hair framing a very girlish face.

I shake my head, and turn back to what the teacher is saying. History  
is so much nicer out of a book.

I raise my hand at something the teacher says.

"Yes, Saotome-san?"

"Sensei, Hiroshima was not the worst loss Japan suffered in a single  
raid. It was the worst loss from a single weapon, but several of the  
incendiary raids were much worse, both in terms of loss of life and property  
damage.

"Yes, but . . . '

And the fight was on.

At least this way some of the others may learn something.

-

Math ended our roaring history class, and the teacher was so inspired  
she explained the fundamental theorem of calculus. She'd been over enough of  
its foundations that I wasn't totally lost. I think Utchan got it, but Akane  
didn't.

-

We discuss math on the way home, and are ambushed a few blocks away  
by Kodachi.

She entangles the other two before I tackle her. She drops the  
ribbon, and then I begin to tickle her.

"I yield!' she shrieks, shrill giggles nearly making her  
incomprehensible.

"Oh," Akane asks, something scary in her tone, "So we have a weak  
spot!'

"I've had it for a while," I tell her.

"And you didn't share?"

"No."

Akane pouts, "Meanie."

Utchan laughs at that.

Shanpuu joins our sparring an hour or so later.

-

"Whell," Mom starts, sitting across the table from us, Rion at her  
side.

Mom is dressed, again, very butch. Rion is in a nice blouse and  
skirt, the blue and white contrasting Mom's inky black.

"Yes?" Kasumi prompts.

"This is Matsudiara Rion."

"Douzo Yoroshiku," Rion says, bowing.

Akane's fingers dig into my arm, "Her?" she hisses.

I nod.

"Later."

"Hajimemashite," Kasumi replies, bowing a little in reply.

"She was my first love," Mom says, "And still is."

I fault, planting my hand on the table with a Bang.

The others aren't much better, except for Shanpuu, who is looking at  
the rest of us quizzically.

"That was," I reach for a word.

"Blunt?" Rion supplies, with a blushing smile.

"Unexpectedly so," Kasumi agrees.

Nabiki nods shakily.

"I always wanted to say that to my family. My parents have passed on,  
so I'm saying it to you."

"Twenty years is a long time, Aunty, and you were so young then,"  
Kasumi warns gently.

"Yes, but I don't think she has changed inside, where it counts. The  
part of her that I fell in love with," Mom says, and Rion blushes again.

"Nodoka!' she sqeaks.

Mom laughs.

"This leaves Uncle where?" Kasumi asks.

"I'll tell him when he gets back. We will work it out -- we're still  
Ranma's parents, but neither of us ever really loved the other."

"Then why did you get married?" Nabiki, surprisingly, asks this  
question.

"I needed out of my parent's grip -- they'd pulled me from school  
after Machiko turned on me. He needed someone who could look after his ratty  
ass," Neither Mom's tone nor face change during this revelation.

-

I show up at Rion's shop bright and early in the morning, then read  
the hours, and wander off, wondering where I would like to go.

Mom's is out, considering that Rion won't be in her shop for another  
few hours. Rion's is out for the same reason.

Coffee and pastry? A few moments contemplation reveals that I've not  
indulged in a couple weeks.

With who? Utchan is working. So's Shanpuu. Akane's off with school  
friends, doing something girly. Kodachi might be interested.

Who am I kidding? Of course she would be.

-

"Kodachi?" I call, tapping at her window.

"Come in," she calls, someplace out of sight.

I flick myself in the window, turning to land on my feet facing into  
the room.

"So you came to see me," she says, from behind me.

"Yeah," I turn to look, and fall silent. She's clothed, in a nice  
black dress, cut to accentuate her bosom, slender waist, and the curve of her  
hips, the skirt soft-looking cotton crepe, the top a shiny satin.

"About what?" she prompts, smiling.

"What?" I fluster a moment, "Oh, yes. I wanted to drag you out for  
coffee and pastry."

"I'd love to, but I need to make a visit first."

"Visit who?"

"My mom," her eyes glisten.

"Mother?" I ask, not wanting to reveal my ignorance in a painfull way.

"She's been dead a few years. I visit irregularly, more recently."

I give her a curious look.

"Good news to pass on," she smiles, and wraps me in a hug.

"Oh?" I smile, "What sort?"

"That the girl I've been most attracted to since she whupped my ass a  
few months ago is also the only boy I've ever been really attracted to."

"Oh," I nuzzle her neck, "That inflates the ego."

"You," and she thumps me on the back.

"That can't be the only good news in your life, the way you've been  
acting."

"No, but it was the catalyst for the rest of it."

"Which is?" I pull back to look at her.

"Admitted to myself that I like girls, particularly ones who can meet  
me on an even footing," she smiles at me, "or better, in a fight. Stopped  
trying to make myself like boys, or men. Dropped most of the forced  
haughtyness I used to keep girls away."

"Keep them away?"

"In middle school, first year, my best friend kissed me. It felt so  
nice, but she freaked so bad, and the relationship fell appart as she pulled  
away from me," she shrugs a little.

I give her a light squeeze.

"So I didn't want to risk that again, particularly as I started  
wanting it so bad.

"You won't freak, will you?"

I kiss her on the lips, pressing my tongue into her mouth as her lips  
part, and her tongue wraps around mine, and her hands pull me into her.

She breaks the kiss, gasping, a few minutes later.

"Wow," she smiles, a little goofily, and falls back onto her bed in a  
rustle of fabric and a flutter of black crepe.

"Yeah," I agree, flopping down next to her, "I won't freak. Promise."

She grabs me again, and rolls, resting her weight on me. It feels  
wonderfull, safely trapped.

After a few moments I start softly kissing her neck. She is a little  
salty, with a bite of perfume.

"Oh," she says, "This is nice, but we've places to go, I'm sure."

I nod, reluctant to let her go. She sits up, straddling my waist.

She's smiling, "You're coming with me, right?" she asks, cupping my  
face in her hands.

"Right."

She kisses me, and I sag back against the bed.

With a little gasp she pulls back, then rises to her feet, still over  
me. She pulls me up and sets me on my feet in front of her.

"Shall we go?"

-

"Mom, this is Ranma -- he makes a really pretty girl, particularly  
with the glasses, doesn't he? It's a curse, hot water triggers it back, cold  
water turns him into a girl," she holds my hand while she speaks, on one knee  
next to the marker. She falls silent, pulling me close, letting go of my hand  
to wrap an arm around my waist.

-

"You offered coffee," she says as we walk back towards Tendo-ke, her  
house, and Rion's shop.

"So I did. Rion's shop will be open by now, so after that?"

"That would be fine."

-

"Let's just make sure they came out properly," Rion says, a big smile  
on her face, holding out my girl-sized pair of aviators.

I take them, a little surprised by the medium-grey tint to them, and  
look at her questioningly.

"I thought they'd look good on you like that, she says, gesturing me  
to put them on.

I do, immediately noticing additional clarity at distance. I turn a  
quizzical face to Kodachi.

She mimes a swoon.

"How do they really look?"

"Lovely," Mom says, stepping into view.

"Breathtaking," Kodachi tells me.

"Very nice," Rion says with a smile, "Shall we try the others?"

I nod, and take the glasses off. With my eyes closed I walk to the  
restroom, splash my face with hot water, and walk back.

I dodge a full-force blow from a gymnastic club, and catch the second.

"That is just so cool," Kodachi says, and I open my eyes and step  
close to see her expression.

I lean forward, and she kisses me tentatively, then with her usual  
fervor.

-

My boy-sized set of aviators are mirrored.

-

The counter-girl whistles when I walk in with Kodachi on my arm.

"So you broke up with that cute little one?" she says.

"Who?" I ask, then realize who she means.

"The girl you let pay three times out of five."

Kodachi's grip loosens.

"She's my twin."

"Oh. You two are very close," the girl says.

"Sometimes it seems they are the same person," Kodachi says,  
radiating amusement.

-

It feels strange to be larger than the person I'm holding, almost as  
strange as it felt to hold anyone at all, a few months ago.

This way she is so small, evoking a protective feeling, rather than  
protected. We're on the roof of the Tendou house, Kodachi in my arms, small,  
delicate, but still so strong. I open my eyes, behind my mirrored aviators,  
as a familiar presence approaches.

"Akane!' I yell.

"Hey, Ranma!' she yells back.

"He's got a girl in his arms," one of her friends squeeks.

"Hey, Akane," Kodachi calls down at her.

"Get down here," Akane yells up at us.

I flip us off the roof, set Kodadchi down on her feet.

Akane grabs her and gives her a kiss, then me. Her friends are  
suitably scandalized.

-

Utchan and Shanpuu arrive at about the same time, nearly noon thirty,  
and join the pile on the floor.

I'm reading a manga, Kodachi something for school, and Akane has a  
novel of some kind. Utchan and Shanpuu cuddle with us for a little while,  
then Utchan pulls out something to read and Shanpuu starts reading my manga  
over my shoulder. It feels so . . . nice.

-

"Father is coming home tomorrow."

"Thanks, Kasumi. Did you write your friend?"

"Yes, I did. Mailed the letter a couple days ago."

"Good luck," I tell her, "I'd like to meet her."

"She'd probably want to join your harem," Kasumi's lips twist into a  
smile.

"Not if she has any sense."

"You say the sweetest things," she tells me, then gives me a hug.

It takes me a moment to chase her logic, since I'd just meant she'd  
risk severe harm chasing me, but reading it as saying that Kasumi'd be more  
desireable is probably better.

"Thank you," I reply.

-

No one seems to be going home, or back to their rooms.

I take off my glasses, place them with my other pairs, and curl up  
agaisnt Shanpuu, who wraps around me tightly.

I pillow my head on her arms, and everyone else cuddles close.

-

I don't want to get up in the morning. I let myself laze about for a  
while, then lever myself out of the pile, and head downstairs. Kasumi is  
already making breakfast, so I join her.

"Good morning, Ranma," she greets.

"Good morning, Kasumi. Any mail, yesterday?"

"None for either of us, but Akane got a letter. I put it on her bed.  
Didn't she get it yesterday?"

"Don't think she checked last night. She'll get it when she changes  
for the movie.

"Yeah. Who's picking the movie?"

"Consensus between me and Ukyou."

"Martial Arts movie, then."

"Probably."

-

Right as the expedition prepares to set out for the park the phone  
rings.

"Moushi moushi? . . . Megumi-chan!?" Kasumi answers, and I step back  
to give her some privacy.

-

"Ranma-kun, Megumi-chan is going to meet us at the park, OK?"

"That's fine -- we may have to catch trans if too many of the  
pay-your-own-way show."

"Ick."

"Yep. Oh well. The pain of popularity," I grimace.

Most of the pay-your-own crowd doesn't show, only a few of the faster  
ones -- Konatsu, who as ever looks utterly cute, Ryuu, who calmed down a lot  
after I whupped his butt, his girlfriend, who forgave him, even if I had to  
call her a dumbshit first, other local martial artists, and the fastest  
members of the photo club, looking for more action shots.

"Who'll need a ride at a G pace?" Mom raises her hand, "Rion, Anyone  
else? G pace is eighteen kilometers an hour, cross country. We've got about  
fifteen kilometers to the theater."

"When's the show?"

"Don't know what we'll be watching, so we don't know. We should get  
to the theater about 11:50, or an hour before the first show -- this should  
allow us choose a show, then disperse into the crowd."

"Everyone else think they can make it?"

A chorus of "Hai's answers.

Mom brings Rion up to the front of the group, and Kasumi walks up with  
a girl, taller than me but not tall, pushing a motorcycle.

Her hair's brown, somewhat curly, short. She's fairly pretty, and  
smells of motor-grease under her perfume.

"Mom's not up to carrying someone that far yet, so . . . '

"Climb on, pretty lady," Shanpuu tells Rion, dropping to one knee in  
front of her.

Rion blushes, but lets Shanpuu pick her up, then settle her a little  
better on her back.

Megumi looks a bit surprised, but pulls her helmet on when Kasumi  
tells her to.

"Off we go," I tell the mob.

-

Utchan and Shanpuu have the smoothest pace of us all, particularly  
when we're going this slow. I pace Shanpuu a moment.

"You OK?" I ask.

Shanpuu smiles and nods, "She doesn't weigh much."

"Yes," Rion tells me.

"'Nother five km, Rion."

I drop back, running next to Megumi, on the opposite side of her bike  
from Kasumi, "Having fun?"

"Feels kinda weird," she tells me, "pacing this big a crowd."

"Wanna open it up a little? I'll race ya."

"On foot?"

"Yep."

"Isn't that a little unfair?"

"Yeah, but I'll give you a head start."

She looks at me like I'm crazy.

"I can beat all the local bikers on the quarter mile."

"What do they ride? GN 125s?"

"They were the most impressed when I beat the Honda 929."

"A CBR 929?"

"That's it."

"Wow," she says, "I don't really believe you, though."

"Kasumi?"

"Yes?"

"Can I borrow her a moment?"

"Sure," she smiles, broadly.

I turn back to Megumi, "Follow me."

I keep the acceleration slow, so she can keep up, then pour it on when  
she starts dumping gears.

The pack is gone in instants, and after a tiny hesitation I drop her,  
too.

I slide to a stop in the theater parking lot, glad I'd taken my shoes  
off, and walk about panting for half a minute before she roars in after me,  
her 250 GP shrieking.

She comes to a more sedate stop, and I put my shoes back on, and walk  
over to examine the listings with her.

Megumi is shocked, "That was amazing!'

"No, the old -- Shanpuu's great grandmother is amazing. She can run  
on water. I tend to sink at anything more than twenty-five meters."

Megumi gives me a crooked, half skeptical face.

-

The movie is "Revenge of the Shaolin Ninja," in Cantonese with English  
and Chinese subtitles. The effects are hokey, the choreography adequite, and  
the story rather incoherent. I love it, of course. Glasses really improve  
the experience.

Sitting in Utchan's lap, since she won the janken for the privilege,  
is also quite distracting. I'd've missed most of the visuals without my  
glasses.

-

We get to come back next week -- no one attacked, no one got  
kidnapped, and no one demanded a rematch in the middle of the show.

Rather amazing, but everyone wore fighting clothes this time.

-

Kasumi and Megumi are holding hands.

I take it as a good sign.

Through some archane method I don't know all the girls converge on me,  
Akane walks off with Utchan, Kodachi takes one hand, and Shanpuu stays on the  
other. Kodachi lays her head over on top of mine for a few steps, then goes  
back to just brushing my shoulder with her side.

this is the end of what I wrote in Basic --S

---  
log:  
Eris Knows When, but after 1998/April:  
started.  
Late 2002/January: continued on paper during Basic  
2002/Febuary/4: Continued more  
2002/August/11: started typeing  
2002/August/13: more  
2002/September/18: typed some more up, finally.  
2002/September/19: typed in more  
2002/October/6: more  
2002/October/10: Typed in more. 35 paper-pages to go of my  
paper-draft.  
2002/November/12: a few more pages typed in.  
2002/November/13: two pages left  
2002/November/13: Done with paper draft. Need to do some editing, then  
decide where I'm going with this . . .  
2006/November/4: Tiny edits, title block


End file.
